


Take a Look at Me

by transience



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempts at angst, Fluff, Heterochromia, Heterochromia au, M/M, OrangeBat, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, canon character death(s), post-Season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transience/pseuds/transience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmate AU where people are born with heterochromatic eyes, and they only revert to their genetically inherited colour when they interact with their soulmate.</p><p>It's obvious that Inaho’s eye colour is the red, but he loves the aquamarine blue-green of the other eye, and it is that eye that he observes in the reflection of the Kataphract screens as the world burns around him.</p><p>Slaine does not know which of the colours is his. He couldn’t recall the colour of his mother’s eyes, and his father’s eyes were neither red nor green.</p><p>The green he hated and loved.<br/>It reminded him of Asseylum-hime’s color, but not quite, and he wasn’t deserving of bearing a hue so similar to his saviour; <br/>It also reminded him of Earth, the reason for his abuse, but also the source of all the beauty he could remember.</p><p>The red he hated and loved.<br/>It was the colour of blood and Mars and the Orbital Knights’ uniform, and he still doesn’t know whether he loves or loathes these things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel takes place after Orange shoots Bat down
> 
> The whipping/torture of Slaine takes place in this chapter, but its not graphic.
> 
>  The bulk of this story will be post-season-1 of A/Z where it will deviate from canon.

The whip cracks through the air for the… Slaine had lost count on how many times it has been. The pain blinds him momentarily, and as he tries to steady his intermittent breaths, a Vers soldier kicks him in the gut, and he doubles over again, well, as much as the chains allowed, anyway. It wasn’t the first time he had been through a beating, and Slaine knew he could take it. But what stung most was the fact that he had been so close to the princess, before Orange betrayed him.  
Strange, for him to consider it a betrayal, there had to have been trust in the first place. But there hadn’t been. It was foolish for him to have considered it.

> “Have you… sworn fealty to… As-“

Blood sprays out of his mouth as the soldier’s knee connects again, in that dull shade of red he had always hated. It was the colour of Martian ground, the colour of blood, the colour of the Orbital Knights’ uniform that Count Cruhteo dons, even as he snaps his whip and carves deep gashes into Slaine's back that he could tell would not fade. And it was the colour of one of his eyes as he stares into the mirror cataloguing his injuries, the eye that reminds him the Princess wasn’t his soulmate – her eyes were a deeper green and a purple too light to even resemble his red. Slaine supposes the colours were fitting for the gentle princess, but it didn’t stop the twinge of bitterness he feels at the thought.

It is partly why he hates the green of his eye. He was underserving of sharing the same colour as the princess, his saviour. The bright green also reminded him of Earth, his birthplace and the very reason for his treatment in Vers’ hands. Slaine has no idea which is his eye, his father had neither green nor red, and his mother… Slaine couldn’t recall what she looked like.

The green eye was also the more expressive of the pair. It was the one that would betray his happiness, but also his suffering. It was the one that would shine with tears during his frequent punishments, the one that would show more weakness. He knew that the red one couldn’t hide anything either, but the darker shade seemed to mask those feelings more easily, betray less to those he cared about, and less to those who only wanted to put him down.

 

Either way, it wouldn’t matter. He hates his colours, perhaps the green one a little more.

 

* * *

 

 

Inaho stares at his reflection on the currently blank screens of his Kataphract, shut off after docking in the Deucalion, wondering whether Seylum should be informed of Bat seeking her out. He remembered their first meeting. Inaho had been startled when he met her gaze, seeing a bright green that resembled his own left eye’s, but a few more seconds of observation in better lighting confirmed what Inaho already knew -- the green of her eyes was just a tad darker than his own.

Inaho would of course know, he had spent countless of hours looking at mirrors, staring at the green that he found all too fascinating. He knew his colour was the red, his sister had told him of his father having the same shade of red he bears, but the green was bright and beautiful and it had comforted Inaho through many occasions. Through bullying in the orphanage, then school, then amidst the flames of battle, that shade of green was the only thing that had comforted Inaho.

Now that the world was in war, and he sees the dark red of stale blood all too often, his attachment for that shade of bright green had only grown. He found himself staring at his reflections if only to catch a glimpse of that beautiful shade, a shade so different from his Orange kataphract, his school uniforms, pilot uniforms, martian uniforms. His friends had told him how sometimes when _his_ eye, the red one, and his expressions and mannerisms conveyed a sense of monotony and indifference, his green eye was the one that would gleam with happiness and emotion, and he is grateful for it, that he does have some way to express his feelings, even indirectly. Sometimes he thinks it keeps him sane, the knowledge that there’s someone out there for him.

After meeting Seylum, he had also started to wonder whether his soulmate would be a Terran, or a Martian. Inaho knows that he really would not care, the soulmate bond proves that Versians and Terrans are really just humans through and through, but he is nevertheless curious.  
Would they ever find each other then? Even when they would be so far apart?

Inaho can only hope the fighting would not claim either of their lives before they meet, as a shooting star falls, this is what he wishes for.


	2. The blood spilled won't be mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> filler because somethings just need to happen, and quick.

Slaine opens his eyes, only to immediately snap them shut as he is met with bright white light.  
Blinking sleep cobwebs from his eyes, he attempts to reorient himself to his surroundings.

“Wh-?“ He stops.  
Talking hurts. Everything hurts. Where was he? He could feel his body clothed by a thin garment, and squinting his eyes, he could see that he wears a blue hospital gown softer than any he had ever worn, and that he was surrounded by white. Closing his eyes again, he feels the weight of some kind of sheet or blanket covering him from his torso to his toes, and he is confused.

Count Cruhteo had never shown him such care.  
After any form of punishment, Slaine would usually be locked in a cell with an uncomfortable mattress and cold metal walls until he had recovered enough to work. From the single night he had spent in the infirmary that one time the Versians had gone too far with their usual violence, he also knew that Cruhteo had never deemed him worthy of a bed this comfortable, much less sheets or blankets or any proper medical care, really.

Slaine shifts, and instantly regrets it as a throbbing pain resonates from his middle, shooting up his spine. His mind brings forth the memories of the Vers soldier’s well-placed kicks to his stomach. Gingerly, shifting his limbs, he tries to assess his injuries, noting massive bruising on certain areas from the tenderness. From experience, Slaine knows the pain should have been much much worse, but he supposes he may have been given a weak anaesthetic. Perhaps the anaesthetic had been expiring – that was the only reason he could have been granted such a luxury. This fact only adds to his confusion though, he remembers the infirmary being rather well-stocked.

 

> “Forgive me-“

These are the last words Slaine remembers hearing from the Count. That and the feeling of the chains suspending him to the ceiling being lowered.

Forgive him? What for? Slaine had brought it on himself, after all. He was surprised he still breathes.  
Anything for his Princess.

* * *

Inaho pushes all his weight onto Seylum’s chest, heels of his palms digging above the inverted V her ribcage forms above her belly, in the middle of her chest.

 

> One, Two, Three. Pinch the nose, tilt the head up, airway is opened. Breathe. Repeat. One, two, three… Save her, save her, save her.

Throughout Inaho’s attempts to resuscitate Seylum, images of his soulmate -- with his bright green eyes so similar to Seylum’s -- dying somewhere, with him stuck here unable to help barraged his mind. He falters.

“Do you-“

“I can handle this,” Inaho states, as Magbaredge offers for a switch.

And he knows he can, he knows his limits well and this was not it, far from it, actually.  
So he shakes the thought of light fading from bright green eyes from his mind.

 

> One, Two, Three. Pinch the nose, tilt the head up, airway is opened. Breathe. Hold. Repeat. One, two, three…

.

.

.

.

.

Inaho fails.

His visage is still one of calm, although a sheen of sweat beads his forehead from the exertion.

He fails because even as the ship plummets through the air, and as Seylum begins to breathe once more, he still can’t shake the thought of those green eyes.  
He realises his laboured breaths weren’t from the physical strain of CPR after all.

* * *

 

>  
> 
> “I was behind the assassination.”

Slaine hadn’t thought he could have felt worse, but he realises now he thought wrong.  
His heart felt as if it had stopped, and Slaine could only stare at Count Saazbaum in shock.

Saazbaum.  
The count had been the only Versian that had even treated him as human other than the princess, the only one who had spared any shred of concern for him after he was taken from the Princess’ side.  
Perhaps it was only because he owed his life to Slaine’s father, and had come to realise that Terrans weren’t all that useless, but still.

Even that much kindness had meant a lot to Slaine.  
Slaine struggles to make sense of it all in his mind:  
Saazbaum had killed Cruhteo.  
Saazbaum had saved Slaine.  
Cruhteo was dead.  
Cruhteo was innocent.  
Saazbaum was not.

Unable to hold back the roiling emotions burning in him, Slaine grabs a knife. In his weak state he knew he wouldn’t be able to inflict much damage, but quite unpredicatably, Saazbaum grips the blade before he could try.  
Blood slides along the blade of the knife, and Slaine sees the reflection of his blood-red eye in it for a split second. The knife trembles slightly, and Slaine looks up, properly, at the Count’s face.

It is the first time Slaine sees that much emotion on anyone, well, any emotion that wasn’t disgust.  
It is the first time Slaine realises why Saazbaum’s eyes were identical, yet he was alone.

Saazbaum’s soulmate was dead.

 

* * *

 

> Stay and fight with me, or flee to Earth and be my enemy.
> 
> Are you my enemy?  
>  You are my enemy.
> 
> My enemy.
> 
>  

Slaine pilots the Tharsis, hands sliding through controls that seemed like an extension of him. He supposes being in the middle of a warzone shouldn’t have him feeling this free or calm, but he has missed the feeling of flying through low gravity levels. He remembers the feel of bandages on his cheeks and body, even now there was a thick layer of bandages wound around his ribs to provide a sort of cushioning. Cruhteo had given him those bruises, and the lacerations on his back and chest. Cruhteo whose Tharsis Slaine was piloting now.

He hears loud crashes as the Orange Kataphract decimates Saazbaum, and hurries over. Slaine owes Saazbaum, it’s time to repay that debt. After that’s done, though, Slaine plans on duly punishing him for the attempt on his princess. Shame, though. Saazbaum had been the closest to a father Slaine had ever had. And perhaps it is in those moments when Slaine had lost himself pretending he was loved, that Saazbaum did care for him as might a father, was when Slaine had found even the littlest inkling of happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eh.. kind of disappointed with this chapter.  
> I'm still not used to writing Inaho and Slaine so sorry if I can't convey their feelings that deeply... yet.  
> Next chapter had Slaine shooting out Inaho's eye though, so more drama and plot and canon divergence!!


	3. White flags, Red stains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The eye thing happens.
> 
> Also, like, dying.

 Slaine watches as Orange keeps Saazbaum occupied, ploughing into the count’s technologically advanced machine and gaining the upper hand by wit and skill alone. He doesn’t have time to admire his adversary’s tactics, though. First, the princess must be found, and rescued from the middle of this warzone.

Judging from the presence of Orange, many capable soldiers, and the rather well thought out and intricate plan that involved decoys, there was only one thing they could possibly be aiming at -- getting the princess to shut down the landing castle by force.

Slaine can’t forgive the Terrans for endangering the princess, but he does appreciate that they at least sent her in well-defended albeit not obviously enough for her immediate identification, even though it probably was only because she stands as their last hope to live.

The Tharsis’ Aldnoah mechanism starts accounting for all the Kats that were near the Aldnoah Drive of the landing castle, and starts weeding out the ones engaging actively in combat. The Princess can’t possibly tolerate violence of any sort, and he doubts even the Terrans could possibly convince her to kill, even if it were to save more lives.

The princess was overly idealistic and pure yet naive in that way, something Slaine envies, since she could _afford_ to be.

But Slaine had grown up where letting your guard down could result in more hits, more taunts, a dinner taken away, extra chores, just to scratch the surface. He cannot afford to hesitate to shoot, or fight back, unless it was toward his superiors, and even then he would cross them in an instant to save his Princess.

 

 

 

> _Ah, found her._

Slaine starts his advance toward the princess, but as the same time Orange crashes through the wall of the very chamber she was in.

 

 

 

> _Really now?  
>  Trust Orange to get in his way, again, when he was so close to the princess._

Orange seemed to realise his presence, and predictably, fires in his direction. The Tharsis immediately predicts their trajectory, and Slaine could easily have avoided all of the incoming missiles, but he could also see the risk they would pose to the princess were they to be deflected at an unfortunate angle. They might harm the princess, or at least cause significant structural damage to the very chamber and potentially bring down the ceiling on them. Slaine instead manoeuvres so that the missiles would hit the Kat’s more easily reparable limbs, and avoided hitting his vitals or the Aldnoah Drive nested within the machinery.

A sudden thought crosses his mind: Can the Drive itself be destroyed?  
Slaine is dragged back into the presence as the Tharsis shakes jarringly on impact, and he gently guides it down with the remaining thrusters.

From the corner of his eye, he sees the Princess shut down Aldnoah, and tries to move to stand in between her and the battle, but the Tharsis’ fine motors and movements are hindered by the damage he has taken on, and Slaine knows the crude motions the Tharsis is still capable of would be insufficient to manoeuvre around the mountain of shrapnel that stands between him and the Princess. He would risk knocking into it, and then the fallen debris would further restrict his options and… at this rate he would _never_ even reach the princess.

More debris rains down on the room, Slaine turns his Kat,sees that the Count’s machine is not functional, and that Orange is heading towards the Princess. Slaine trusts Orange enough to know that he would not harm her unnecessarily, so he takes this chance to finally dismount and climb out of his damaged craft.

* * *

 

He takes one step forward, then two, and climbs over a piece of wreckage.

 

Slaine sees Orange, face so marred with the blood streaming from his temples to let Slaine discern his features, reach out to the princess.

Then the gunshots sound, and everything seems to slow.

 

The princess falls.

Slaine screams.

 

Slaine empties a whole load of bullets into the count, and watches as crimson stains the red of Saazbaum’s uniform.

Slaine catches his reflection in the smoking gun he holds. His hair is wild and dishevelled, so different from his usual imposed tidiness learnt from years of serving the Versians, his face thick with grime and dust.

 

And now he has blood on his hands.

* * *

 

 

The princess had fallen.

 

Slaine’s Tharsis is in ruins, and he knows that last bullet he shot had gone through the Count’s heart.

He didn’t aim it there, and his arms shake with the realisation that _he had killed someone,_ the only one who had ever tried to treat him decently apart from the Princess herself.

Now everything he might have had was gone.

 

 

> His past – the Princess, his future – the Count.

 

Slaine realises that despite everything, he never truly wished any ill toward the Count.  
He didn't mean to hurt anyone.  
He doesn't want to,  
really.

He turns back to his present, and finds Orange dragging himself toward the princess.  
Slaine can’t bear to watch anymore.

* * *

 

 

> “Stop.”

The Princess was filthy enough, lying on the dusty floor, blood seeping out of her wounds and spreading oh-so-slowly in the sanguine red that still seems surreal to Slaine.

Orange doesn’t stop, and Slaine’s index finger tightens on the trigger.  
Then, Orange draws out a gun.

Slaine pulls the trigger and shoots the Terran right in the head without a second thought.  
He cannot afford any hesitation.  
He cannot afford to have any regrets, not now, not when the princess needs aid and he is the only one left.

* * *

 

The last thing Inaho sees before his vision is blanketed in that familiar red, then clouded with black, is a pair of bright teal eyes gleaming.

There is a slight quirk to his lips before they grow slack.

* * *

 

Slaine observes with a strange detachment as the bullet goes through the Terran’s head, and his world then seems to collapse to just him and his princess. He rushes to her side, methodically assessing her injuries, and is relieved to see that she still breathes, and her pulse, although weakening by the minute due to blood loss, was still steady.  
For now, anyway. Taking note of the amount of blood she has lost, he is glad to realise that she can be saved, especially since the bullets hadn’t hit her vitals, although some may be lodged close by -- dangerously so.

Even if Slaine could hijack a craft equipped for the transport from earth to space, he can’t risk transporting the princess up to space, for the changes in gravity may be too much for her already weak body to adapt to.

Slaine sighs at the one solution he sees. He doesn’t see how it could turn out well for him, not when there were so many of theirs dead due to the Versian soldiers. He realises then the futility of his situation. Slaine would, no, _could_ never truly belong in either world.

It’s not as if he had any hope the Versians would ever treat him fairly, and in his Vers uniform he could only be viewed as an enemy on Earth, a Martian, and above all, a threat. In that regard, he supposes he couldn’t quite blame Orange for shooting him down. He wouldn’t have trusted himself either.

Slaine hears the pounding of feet against the earth, and deems it too light to belong to a male, and too unsynchronised to belong to an individual. He instinctively draws nearer to the Princess, before two Terran soldiers come into view. Both had dark hair, but the one nearer to him had hair cut shorter.

The one with short black hair immediately screams a name --- belonging to the soldier Slaine had shot moments ago? --- before racing to his side, falling to her knees as she tentatively reaches for his shoulders. Slaine could see the horrified tears that sprung to her eyes as she takes in that _all that red_ emanated from the single gunshot wound. Slaine’s fault. Slaine begins to feel a tinge of guilt, but he dampens the feeling. He could beat himself up about it later, after the Princess’ safety was ensured.  
That was, of course, assuming he even lived past today.

The one with long hair seems dazed, trailing behind her comrade with her mouth falling open in shock. Slaine finds himself backing away from them, and inching toward the princess slowly.

The shorter haired one suddenly turns her gaze to him, and he sees her eyes shining with a mix of tears and anger, and she flies towards him. Slaine’s eyes widen, but he resists the urge to flinch, or evade. The former would be weakness, the latter would not gain him any favours, so he takes her blow to his gut in stride. His still-healing ribs protest at the blow, and biting his lower lip hard to keep a grunt of pain from escaping, Slaine keels over, and tries not to wrap his arms around his middle, instead staying down on his knees where he had fallen, trying to catch his breath.

 _It was a natural reaction_ , Slaine assesses, and he really could not blame the Terran soldier for assaulting him. He bears enemy colours after all, and the enemy can never be trusted. _Slaine_ should never be trusted.

He blinks, curling in instinctively in a futile effort to lessen the pain and shake off the dark spots that cloud his vision, and he blearily makes out a figure approaching him, probably the same Terran soldier to deal another blow.

Slaine shuts his eyes, but the hit doesn’t come.

As his vision clears, Slaine sees that the short-haired soldier is now facing away from him, restrained by a tight hug from the long-haired one, and he could tell from the tremors that shake the pair that she is sobbing.  
The long-haired one looks up, and as yellow irises meet his gaze, Slaine lowers his head and  _begs.  
_ (It wasn't as if he was unaccustomed to that. Begging. Begging for the Versians to stop, begging for mercy that would never be shown, begging for just a bite or a sip after days without any form of sustenence.)

“Please… just save… the Princess. Save… the Princess… _Please_ …”

Slaine is almost ashamed and disgusted at the sound of his voice. It comes out a harsh, rattling whisper, sounds clawing its way out of a throat that suddenly seemed so dry. He coughs, and is startled to see the floor splatter with red. Feeling another wave of coughing incoming, his hands go to cover his mouth and the red runs through his fingers and drips onto the floor, mingling with the other traces of blood. The coughs don’t abate, and each sends a fresh wave of agony to his chest.

* * *

 

The last thing Slaine remembers?  
Strangely concerned hazel eyes peering down at him, and a brush of fingertips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, so stark canon divergence takes place after this.
> 
> And welp. I killed Saazbaum (a lot) earlier.
> 
> Next update might be slightly later (a week?) cause school.  
> [When teachers tell you you can complete all your homework over the break in a single day THEY ARE LYING]


	4. Ashes, Ashes...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inaho gets his eye fixed up, Asseylum vouches for Slaine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this fic I did try to research the symptoms/consequences of certain injuries for this chapter but well it probably is still unrealistic or not touched on in great depth but  
> It isn't easy to find an answer to "how long can someone last with massive bruising and bleeding" or "how badly beaten up can someone be without being dead" or "how long does it take to remove a bullet from an eye" etc. etc.  
> BUT HEY I TRIED.
> 
> I also took some liberties on a few things. In this story the Princess managed to recover pretty quick, and Inaho's surgery was really fast too. I also omitted the Inaho has Aldnoah activation rights thing  
> I don't think I've written enough on everyone's reactions to Slaine, maybe I'll get to that in the next chapter because their recovery/transition process is probably going to take a while so this is more like a prelude to the next chapter?  
> Enjoy~

Slaine comes to, and this time he doesn’t have to shield his eyes from bright lights. Sitting up, he ignores the stabs of pain in his abdomen, and finds himself on a bed in a dark cell. If it weren't for the steel framed bed and the thick metal bars on the far side of the cell, it could have been identical to his lodgings under Count Cruhteo. Slaine shuffles to the bars, swaying a little but managing to support himself with the walls. His vision blurs as a wave of nausea hits him, and Slaine drops to his knees by the bars, trying to regain his bearings.

Just as he wonders how long it would be before someone checks on him, he hears footsteps approaching him, and registers them of the same rhythm and weight as the footsteps of the long-haired soldier from before. Shiny black boots stop outside his cell, and Slaine sees his distorted reflection in them before he latches onto a bar and pulls himself up. The door swings open, and the long-haired soldier enters. Slaine meets her eyes, then immediately averts his gaze.

Her eyes were piercing cold.

She sets down a meal tray on his bed, and Slaine eyes the food. Despite being just a small helping of fried rice with sad-looking vegetables and a strange thick soup, it was better than the regular Versian fare, or deep-freezed space food.

As the soldier turns around, Slaine raises his voice, “How is… the princess?”

His voice is barely over a whisper, but the soldier hears and stops. “She’ll live.”

“Can I-“

“No.”

“…”

The soldier takes a deep unsteady breath, and Slaine remembers the dark haired boy he had shot.

“Orange. Is he-“

“My brother will live.”

_Her brother._

The soldier  turns around suddenly, and slams Slaine into the nearest wall. Wincing, Slaine tilts his head to meet eyes brimming with tears.

“It was you. You shot him.”

“…yes.”

The soldier pulls back a fist, as if wanting to strike him, and Slaine jerks instinctively a little, before tilting his head to the side, averting his eyes downward and bracing himself for the hit. He deserves no less.

Slaine feels the arm pinning him back shake, then the soldier’s arm drops and she leaves, locking the cell behind her. 

* * *

 

Pulse racing, Slaine slumps to the ground. He stares at the food in front of him, sniffing at it cautiously.

 

 

> Fish. Of course.
> 
> It just had to be fish.
> 
>  

He stirs at the soup curiously, but soon realises it contained shreds of crab.

Slaine is allergic to seafood.

 

* * *

 

He picks at the droopy vegetables instead, and forces himself to eat. He won’t know when they’d come back with more sustenance.

The vegetables are surprisingly flavourful, although they leave a strange greasy feeling on his lips. When he’s done, Slaine greedily gulps down the entire contents of the plastic bottle of mineral water on the tray. He feels tired, and the room is starting to spin around him. Another bout of coughing not dissimilar to the one he had had on the landing castle ensues. As he clutches his sides, he notes that his skin felt cold to the touch, and he was breaking out in cold sweat. He was confused, confused and scared. He wanted more than anything to get up and do something, but his body protests at every move. Instead, Slaine grips the ends of his military sleeves, and fiddles with the buttons on his uniform, steeling himself through the worst of the radiating pain that comes with each breath.

 

* * *

 

“He won’t hurt me, I know him! He wouldn’t hurt anyone! You can’t just leave him t-”  
Inaho sits up, and sees Seylum arguing with Inko, and his sister trying to placate them both.

“Well he certainly-!”

“Inaho!” his sister interrupts, before they all rush to Inaho’s side. Inaho directs his gaze at Asseylum, “Bat?”

Asseylum stares back at him with a quizzical look on her face, “Slaine?”

Inaho nods. He notes that his range of vision was much narrower than usual, and realises that there is a gauze covering his left eye. He reaches up, but Inko stops him.

“Seylum here says that we should let her friend free, but how can we trust him? Look what he did t-“

“Slaine wouldn’t h-“

Inaho stops listening, opting to swing his legs over the side of the bed and make his way to the door. He teeters, though, and Inko immediately catches him while Seylum peers at him in concern.

“Take me to him, I’ll deal with him,” Inaho says. He can already feel his mind clearing, and his legs growing steadier by the second.

“Inaho, you can’t-”

“Inaho, you need to rest’”

Yuki and Inko start to protest, but they must realise that Inaho’s stubbornness could rival their own combined, and relent.

“I have to see him, Yuki-nee.” Inaho says softly.

* * *

 

“I can’t wait for you to meet Slaine!” Seylum says to Inaho, as Yuki, Inaho and Seylum make their way to the cells. Inaho listens as she recounts all the things Slaine had taught her, and Inaho can’t help but smile when the sky and birds were mentioned. He remembers the pair of bright green eyes looking at him, and his smile falters. Those eyes… there hadn’t been any trace of happiness in them.

As they near his cell, Seylum quiets. Inaho could make out a figure on the floor, knees pulled up halfway to his chest, and a seemingly untouched tray of food on the bed. As Yuki-nee unlocks the cell, the figure barely moves, and it is not until Seylum approaches, breathing out a “Slaine?”, that the figure looks up.

“A-Asseylum-hime-“

Hearing Slaine’s weak rasp, and looking at his pale complexion, Inaho knows something is terribly wrong. If he were honest with himself though, he would probably say it was the eyes that gave it all away. What had been piercingly clear and shining even in the midst of battle was now dull and unfocused.

“Where… wh-”

Slaine stops talking, and it is a while before Inaho registers that he is slumped over, eyes shut, and unmoving. Seylum’s own emerald eyes were blown wide, her hands reaching up to her mouth in an expression of shock before she reaches to Slaine’s shoulders and nudges him, slightly panicked.

Inaho turns to his sister, who is looking visibly distraught. “Yuki-nee, has the prisoner received any medical attention since his capture?”

“No… he… there weren’t any apparent wounds… and h-“

After pulling a shaking Seylum back by the shoulders, Inaho stretches Slaine out on the floor, examining him head to toe for injuries. The Versian uniform the blonde still wore covered him from neck to toe, and even his hands were shielded with gloves, but there didn’t seem to be any major external bleeding present. Inaho gently prods at Slaine’s temples, shoulders, arms, chest-

He frowns. Slaine’s chest was tender, and he could feel the texture of old bandages under Slaine’s clothes. This meant that Slaine had had some form of injury – rib fracture? – during the fight, but they had probably been aggravated during it. Inaho thinks about the time he shot the Sky Carrier down. Maybe these were his fault. Laying a hand onto the blond’s forehead, Inaho speaks, “We need to get him to the medical bay.”

* * *

 

The beeping of the heart rate machine was erratic, leaping from a worryingly slow rate to a rhythm above 100 beats per minute. All the while, Inaho refuses to leave Slaine’s side, and watches as Slaine shifts in his sleep, hooked up to an IV that would drip a steady flow of painkillers into his bloodstream. Inaho dozes off to the smell of antiseptic.

When he comes to, Slaine is sitting up on the bed, awake. Inaho raises his head, willing Slaine to say something, anything.  
The blonde jerks around at the sound of Inaho’s movements, and unease is written over his face,

 

“I can’t see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again apologies if anything was too unrealistic or exaggerated or if this chapter's too dry (but hey the three of them would be dead by now if anything were realistic right??)  
> They're all in the same place now so interaction! fluff! angst! idk!
> 
> ALSO, SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE  
> I'm supposed to be doing a report thing on this science thing this week but one of the machines I need for testing BROKE so I can't do anything right now ugh (so I wrote, I guess that's a good thing?)But everything's being pushed back so idk how free I'll be in the next weeks to update :(  
> I'll try updating before the end of the month though but no promises ^^
> 
> [Also, anyone has any anime recs?]


	5. Stasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much happens aboard the Deucalion.  
> Inaho has too much time on his hands to think.

Inaho meets Slaine’s eyes, the shade of teal still stealing his breath.

His mind screams at him how irrational his fixation on Slaine’s twin green eyes is, but another part of him stifles his thoughts, rebutting with how his interest is justified.

 

> Slaine had shot out Inaho’s green eye.  
>  Slaine’s eyes were both a familiar green.  
>  The coincidences and ironies were apparent.

Inaho’s thoughts raced, and he wonders if Slaine’s soulmate could be-

 

> “Hello?”

Slaine speaks up, his voice softer and notably clouded with uncertainty.

Inaho jerks out of his reverie.  
Slaine’s eyes are blown wide now, the fluorescent lighting in the medical bay reflecting off his iris, giving the green an even greater depth. He blinks in rapid succession, gaze darting around the room. It was pointless, though. He is helpless in the clutches of the dark.  
Slaine feels tears start to well up in his eyes, overwhelmed by the roaring confusion and panic that threatens to swallow him alive.

 

> “Slaine Troyard.”
> 
> “Yes, sir.”

Slaine automatically responds, too used to the ingrained Versian protocol. The familiarity of his response was almost a relief in this unfamiliar and strange environment, despite the harsh treatment he had received in their hands due to his Terran origins.

The stranger seems surprised, and a tense silence holds for a moment.

 

> “Do you know where you are?
> 
> “Do you remember how you arrived here?
> 
> “What year is it?
> 
> “What are your intentions?”

 

A series of simple questions followed, and Slaine answers them all to his best ability. The stranger informs him that it was good that he does not seem to experience much memory loss, as Slaine reassures him that he would not cause harm unless it was necessary to protect his princess.

 

The stranger paused his barrage, his monotone voice filled with a pensive silence.

 

> “Troyard, what colour are your eyes?”
> 
> “Red and green, sir.” Slaine found the question odd and out of place, but it wasn't his place to question it.
> 
> “Call me Kaizuka. Kaizuka Inaho.”
> 
> “Kaizuka?”

The name sounds familiar to Slaine, as if he had heard it recently.

His memory flashes back to his cell and the seafood and the soldier who had brought it to him.

 _“…my brother…”_  
“…Orange…”  
“…bringing his food…”  
“…Kaizuka Yuki…"

 

>  
> 
> “Orange?!”

 

* * *

 

 

 

> “Yes. I suppose that is what you know me as.”

Inaho struggles to maintain his indifferent tone as Slaine noticeably stiffens and leans away from his voice, ducking his head. His eye picks up on the sheets now grasped tightly in Slaine’s fists. And the slight wince as he shifts back.

 

> “I will accept any penance for my actions.”

The blonde sounds resigned, as if he were used to repercussions of his actions, but Inaho cannot miss the tremble in his arms.

 

> “Don’t worry about it. It was a good shot. We were in a war, I cannot hold anything against you for raising arms against me.”

Slaine’s eyes flutter open, and tension melts off his shoulders. Now that his face was fully turned toward Inaho, he can see the look of pure disbelief written all over his visage.

 

Inaho sighs, motioning to leave, but a pale arm shoots out and fingers manage to hook onto his sleeve.

 

> “Orange…”

Inaho feels the fingers latching onto his sleeve curl, before they let go and Slaine’s arm falls back on the mattress.

 

> “What is it?”

Inaho pauses to inquire.

 

> “Could you… stay?”

 

* * *

 

 

If Slaine could see, he would have caught the perceptible widening of Inaho’s eyes. But even without his sight, Slaine can make out the sounds of him settling back into his previous position by Slaine’s bedside. All things considered, Slaine found himself feeling glad that Orange seemed all right. He smiles a little at Orange’s comment on his aim, and he was glad that that shot had not been fatal. Slaine belatedly realises that the thought of Asseylum-hime hadn’t been present in his mind since Orange had spoken up.

He is conscious that it was very unlike him to ask a stranger – an enemy, no less – to keep him company. But his thoughts are muddled and his mind too convoluted in processing his situation to think straight.

And the darkness frightens him so. This darkness that was deeper than space and darker than even the small cramped cells on the Versian ships, which were tucked away in the very belly, away from any sparse starlight. Lack of resources also meant that no lighting of any sort was spared for the cells, each one barely two metres long and wide, equipped only with chains and a single bucket. Meals would come once a day if he was fortunate, but more often than not Slaine had found himself hungry for what seemed like days. It isn’t as if he was high on Versian priorities, he would have been dead if it hadn’t for the Princess’ brief interest in him.

But at least then he could see his hands, or a blurry reflection of himself on the metal bars. And at least he knows that one day he will wake to the jangle of keys and the glare of a torch upon his face, before he is dragged out. Now, he does not even have the light to look forward to, his future as uncertain and dark as his vision.

 

* * *

 

The next dose of painkillers takes effect, and by the even breaths, Inaho knows that Slaine is asleep, but he cannot bring himself to leave. He finds himself brushing aside Slaine’s hair that had fallen into his face, and felt a tinge of disappointment when they did not part to reveal shining green. Lulled by the silence only broken by the soft beeping of the medical bay, Inaho loses himself in his thoughts.

 

 

> Inaho realises a few things:

  1. Slaine’s eyes had changed after the last time he had seen a mirror, presumably not so far from the time Inaho lost his eye.
  2. Slaine’s shade of green was too familiar. Inaho was sure it would match his own, but he has no way to confirm if his other eye had changed.
  3. Mentioning any of this to Slaine would not be a good idea. He is more likely to get suspicious about a power play, or outrightly distrust Inaho, especially considering Slaine was unable to see. Furthermore, Inaho was in a position of power over Slaine, and he fears Slaine may just play along due to his Versian conditioning.
  4. Slaine was oddly captivating.
  5. Inaho is so very screwed.
  6. He probably should find his sister and friends soon.



 

* * *

 

Yuki-nee is staring very intently at Inaho’s face when he arrives with his request to treat Slaine kindly upon his recovery.

 

> “He’s your soulmate, isn’t he?”

Inaho blinks.

 

> “His eyes… they’re as green as yours used to be.”
> 
> “I have no way to know, Yuki-nee.”
> 
> “Ah… yes, he was the one who shot out your eye, ne?”
> 
> “Please don’t hold that against him.”
> 
> “No promises, but I’ll try. Anything for my dear brother!”

Yuki-nee wraps Inaho in a quick hug. She didn't sound overly enthused about the prospect of Slaine being her brother's soulmate, but Inaho appreciates her all the same.

 

* * *

 

The days fly past as everyone recovers. Inaho keeps using his injury as an excuse to slip away from debriefs, or strategizing meetings. Still, word reaches him that the Versians has ceased aggression lately, and that Earth has extended an offer for a ceasefire. Neither side is planning to back down, but Vers seemed to want to bide their time at the moment, and Earth would jump at any opportunity to amass more firepower.

Slaine spends most of his time asleep, and Inaho watching him.

* * *

 

The captain stops him not long later.

 

> “Kaizuka.”
> 
> “Captain.”
> 
> “I’m delegating the care of the prisoner to you. When you deem him healthy enough, send notify me. The higher-ups plan to question him regarding Versian tactics.”
> 
> “…understood.”

 

* * *

 

Inaho reflects on his this new development.

What does Slaine mean to him, anyway?  
He was a worthy rival, and chances are they might be soulmates.

But what does that even mean?  
Inaho barely knows Slaine, and the war was still ongoing. However you look at it, a Versian and a Terran even forming any sort of friendship was highly unlikely, with Rayet being a possible exception, but then again, she had plenty of reasons to hate the Versians. Their getting along was improbable at best, and impossible at worst.

Inaho would also be in control of Slaine’s near future. Slaine would be dependent on him, and Inaho would rather Slaine not feel obligated to act a certain way around him.

 

His head pounds, and Inaho staggers a little, catching himself on a railing anchored to the corridor walls. Eyes now closed, he slowly compartmentalises his thoughts, picking out the possibilities from the facts, deciding that he had more time to dwell on them.

His primary focus now was to follow the Captain’s orders and ensure Slaine’s recovery.

 

Obviously, he finds no personal motivation to do exactly that.


	6. Beneath My Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they go out... side, but Inaho would probably rather it be a date ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of thanks to all those who have given kudos or bookmarked this fic - it really is very uplifting :D  
> extra special thanks to everyone who left comments - y'all are the reason i keep updating, no matter how long it takes :')  
> hope this doesn't disappoint! <3 ily many many!

Slaine tenses as he hears a sharp rapping at the door. Well, he doesn’t know for certain it was the door. It could be window, or the knocking could be from an adjacent room, but Slaine remembers hearing footsteps fading out on his left side the last time someone has vacated the room.

Other than the man who checks his condition every other day, Slaine’s solitude is uninterrupted. He is glad for it, for he knows that the chances any visit from a Terran official ending pleasantly was abysmal at best.

Spending hours and hours in darkness was enough to get Slaine to accept that he wasn’t going to see, no matter how many times he blinks, but he still hasn’t gotten used to being terrifyingly unaware about his bearings, and helpless against it. The fear had saturated into a low undercurrent that ripples along his nerves when he wakes, and as he hears a door slide open, the panic spikes.

 

> “Troyard. How are you faring.”
> 
> “I’m as comfortable as you would expect.” Slaine bites back, frustration leaking into his speech.
> 
> “Is there anything that would improve that?” The same bland tone, rid of all inflections.
> 
> “What are you really here for, Orange?” Slaine sighs. He understands not why Orange keeps up the pretense of benevolence.
> 
> “You were assigned under my care, I am simply here to fulfil my duties.”

_As if that were the only reason,_ both Slaine and Inaho think. 

A brief silence follows.

> “What time is it?”
> 
> “6 in the evening. Why do you ask?”
> 
> “It was strange not knowing.” Slaine inclines his head slightly away from the direction of Oranges’ voice.
> 
> “Seylum is safe, nothing has changed regarding this situation.”

Slaine swallows down a rebuke at the casual use of his princess’ name, and scathing remarks regarding why Orange would bring that up. He knows it would be unwarranted, though, Slaine _had_ spent the first few days constantly asking about Asseylum-hime.

> “You asked me earlier, if I wanted anything.”
> 
> “Something to that effect, yes.”
> 
> “Could I perhaps go outside?”
> 
> “I see no problem with that, as long as you are under supervision it should-“
> 
> “I meant outside the ship… I would like to feel the wind.”
> 
> “That… should be fine as well.” Inaho can understand the listless monotony that must have arisen from days of inaction in the medical bay, but Slaine’s request still surprises him.
> 
> “Could we go now?” Slaine’s voice is smaller, quieter, not daring to hope for an affirmative.
> 
> “Yes. Of course.” Inaho breathes.

 

* * *

 

The formality of their speech seems to only make the metaphysical barriers between them grow, the unseen chasm between them widening more and more. It pains Inaho, if only a little, that Slaine was adamant on making it clear with every word where both of them stand. A prisoner and his guard or soldiers on opposing sides, and not just two boys under unfortunate circumstances – for a war does not men make – caught in an interplanetary war much bigger than the both of them.

They reach the thick doors, and Inaho accesses the lock system, willing it to open. Slaine feels a slight thrum of energy at the prospect of breathing in fresh Earthen air for the first time since Orange had taken out his craft moons ago. Inaho leads Slaine through the threshold of the first door, hearing it hiss shut as the airlock activates, before Inaho authorises the second hatch to unlock.

* * *

 

The cold air that stings his face was akin to a bucketful of chilly water to the face, yet unlike the instances under Count Cruhteo’s _care_ , this air – genuine, fresh, Earthen air so unlike the recycled and heavily treated air available in Vers – rejuvenates and refreshes Slaine. He feels as if the cold has awoken the life in him, stimulating his nerves and causing his whole being to tingle with sensation. It did not matter that he could not see. What did it matter, when he felt so much?

Slaine scents the sea, and is immediately reminded of once-familiar shores, home, love, joy and a strange warmth seeps into his bones despite the evening chill. His senses are flooded with euphoria so stark from the innui of the still medical ward, and here he almost feels free.

Stretching his arms outwards to his sides, Slaine whoops in delight as he feels a sudden gale blast his bangs back, before turning towards the steadfast presence at his side.

 

> “Orange, what’s the sky look like?”
> 
> Inaho was momentarily taken aback, but promptly answers, “Orange.”
> 
> Slaine lets out a small laugh, “No, I meant what does the sky _look_ like? If u could take a picture of this moment right now only in words, what would they be?”

Inaho looks, truly looks.

 

> “ _Beautiful_ ,” Inaho breathes. “Radiant,” he is not completely sure whether it was merely the sky he was describing.
> 
> “The sea is as green as your eyes, and the edges of the sky are both deep prussian and bright orange concurrently.” _And the trail of light the sun leaves on the waves is as bright as the light in your eyes, despite them being unseeing._
> 
> “The rest of the sky is the colour of autumn leaves, gold and auburn and red, with thin strokes of gulls diving into the spray.”
> 
> “And are there any stars?”
> 
> “No, there haven’t been any for years now. Most places on Earth experience too much light or air pollution.”
> 
> “Oh.”

Inaho cant help but notice the tinge of disappointment in Slaine’s tone.

 

* * *

 

They stayed out there until the sky turned completely blue, Slaine feeling the sunset, and Inaho watching Slaine. Slaine’s expression was open, innocent happiness palpable upon his visage, and were he able to see, he would have seen Inaho’s countenance mirroring his own.

Slaine follows Inaho back in without complaint when he feels a tap on his arm. He is sure his hair is a windswept mess by now, and he was starting to feel cold in his garb. A warm hand circles his wrist, before leading him slowly back down the corridors they had passed on the way out. He hears the hissing of the airlock activating, and misses the breeze already, but he cannot recall ever feeling so content.

Still overcome with adrenaline, Slaine barely realises as he is helped back into his bunk, and a warm blanket thrown over him.

He will not recall fingers brushing back his messy hair, nor will he recall the unnecessary grasp of the very same fingers on his wrist before they had let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just got my laptop fixed yay so here's a chapter to celebrate :D  
> pardon the lacklustre formatting/editing... it's 1am and I should probably stop procrastinating so much especially since mid-years are coming up (so the next chap would probably be in late may/june sorry about that)

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is wondering why their eye colours did not change after their conversation before Inaho shoots Slaine down, it's because in this AU there are certain requirements for it to count as 'interaction'.
> 
> An exchange of words is one, but contact is another: they must meet face-to-face. So if one skypes their soulmate before meeting irl, or bumps into them on a street without having any real conversation, it does not count.


End file.
